The Truth
by Sub-Zero MKA
Summary: Clint steals SHIELD's patented truth serum. What could possibly go wrong? Rating may go up in later chapters.


_**The Truth**_

There were many things that Clint Barton was on any given day. Loud, obnoxious, observant, moody, angry, creepy, scary and flirtatious being just a few of the moods Clint could be found in. Today, while crawling through the air vents within the SHIELD helicarrier, he was set on his most dangerous setting, bored.

When Clint was bored, bad things tended to happen. For instance, one time, he placed itching powder inside Nick Fury's eye patch cleaning solution. Needless to say, he spent quite some time doing paperwork.

But today, fortunately for his boss, he had no access to itching powder. Instead, he had his sights set on something different. Something far more destructive. His future victims only had Coulson to blame. He was the one who informed him of its existence.

The Truth Serum™.

One of SHIELD's preferred means of interrogation, or providing means of embarrassing macho agents in front of potential assets. Clint could already imagine all of the hilarious and embarrassing secrets he was going to learn once he injected it into his friends.

First, he was going to find out if Steve was a virgin. Tony claimed vehemently that he was, but he had his doubts. Next, he was going to get Tony to tell him each and every embarrassing thing that he had been keeping from them. Blackmail at its finest.

For the coup de gras, he was going to finally learn whether Natasha loved him like he loved her. Sure, she'd kill him soon after, but it would be worth it.

After a few minutes, he was directly over his target. He could hear a pair of scientists talking below.

"…sex with a cow. Would have never learned that without the Truth Serum™. It makes you tell the truth no matter what, you know."

"Yep. And it works quickly, and only lasts for an hour. Now, let us leave it completely unguarded and go to lunch for a lengthy period of time."

"Yes. I feel completely comfortable leaving this highly effective, yet highly dangerous in the wrong hands material completely unguarded. Because it's not like there's a bored world class super assassin waiting to drop down from the air vents and take some while we're gone or anything."

"Yeah, what are the odds of that ever happening?" They laughed and left, even leaving the door wide open.

Clint waited a few moments before dropping down. His weapon of choice was sitting right there, completely out in the open. It was even already loaded into syringes for the easy theft. He pulled out a burlap sack and plucked ten syringes and carefully placed them inside.

"Too easy," he said to himself.

"What do you think you're doing Barton?" Clint whipped his head around to find Phil standing in the doorway. He probably should have closed the door. "Well?"

Clint had no excuse. He was caught red handed, with his hand literally in the cookie jar. Well, not literally, but still. "Um, well I…" He had to think fast, and could only think of one thing. "OH MY GOD! WHY ARE YOU SHOWING ME THAT NUDE PICTURE OF STEVE ROGERS?!"

Phil looked at him as if he had just offered him beastiality porn. "What are you talking about?! I don't have– oof!" Maria Hill, having heard the key words 'nude' and 'Steve Rogers', somehow ran from one end of the helicarrier to the other in the time it took Phil to speak and tackled him to the ground. "Where is it?! Give me the fucking picture!"

"I don't have any pictures of Rogers!" Hill tore his clothes off and searched every inch of fabric. "See? Nothing," he insisted while trying to cover his modest Captain America boxers.

She scowled and threw his clothes into the nearest trash can. "Then why did my Steve Rogers Senses® tingle like crazy?"

Coulson turned to confront Clint about his failed ploy, only to find that the agent was long gone. "Damn, he's good."

* * *

Clint Barton reached the tower without a hitch. He padded into the common floor of the tower and snuck into the kitchen. Fortunately, it was empty. A sly grin reached his lips as he carefully pulled out the first vial and then hid the burlap sack in an unused cabinet.

His first victim, Tony, would likely be looking for a drink in a few minutes. The man was predictable that way.

He unscrewed the top and poured the contents inside the almost empty bottle of whiskey. Shaking it up, he replaced it and then slipped out of the kitchen and onto sofa.

"Sup, Nat," he asked his friend.

She considered him curiously with a raised eyebrow before answering. "Just watching TV. What are you up to?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just thought I'd join my friend in watching… America's Next Top Model. …Yippie." She flashed a humored smirk and scooted closer to him. "Have I mentioned how much uglier these women are compared to you?"

"You could stand to mention it more, lover boy."

At that, Tony walked in and headed straight for the kitchen. Clint managed to conceal his smirk as one flashed at Natasha's answer. "Well, I'm all about flattery, doll," he answered smoothly.

Her smirk widened as she slowly leaned in toward him. He met her halfway and touched his forehead against hers. "Tasha," he whispered.

"Clint."

Tony burst into the room, forcing them to quickly separate. "Damn, there's an extra kick to this whiskey," he said. Natasha smirked and watched him plopped down next to Clint.

"Why do you drink that stuff so much, Tony?" Clint inquired.

"I think it makes me look like a completely badass, even though I know this goes straight to my gut." He looked strange for a very long moment. "Um, that's not what I meant to say." He looked at his glass.

Clint could barely contain his laughter.

"Yeah, yuck it up. This does wonders for my already barely existent self-esteem. Damn it, what the hell is wrong with me?!"

Clint almost doubled over with laughter. "Jeez, Tony, 'bout time you started being _honest_, hahaha!"

Tony left in a huff, causing Clint to fall to the floor. Today was going to be a good day.


End file.
